by R. L. Stine
“I’m really sorry about what happened,” he told them. “I mean, about cutting that one in half. It will never happen again. I promise.”
Leaning over the tank, he stared down into the dirt. The worms didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him. Two of them were crawling against one of the glass walls. Another was burrowing into the dirt.
“So do you think you can stop following me around?” Todd continued, giving it one last try. “I mean, I don’t want to get rid of you all. I’ve been collecting worms for a long time. But if you keep this up, well… you’ll all have to go.”
Todd lifted his head out and stood up straight. I can’t believe I just did that, he thought.
Maybe I am totally nuts.
He glanced quickly around the basement, expecting Regina and his parents to pop out from behind the furnace, crying, “April fool!”
But no one else was down there. Luckily, no one had seen him actually pleading with the worms!
Feeling really foolish and confused, Todd trudged back up to his room. His mother was waiting for him in the hall outside his room. “What took so long?”
“Nothing,” Todd muttered, feeling himself blush.
She swept a hand through his wavy, dark hair. “I never get to see your hair,” she said, smiling. “It’s always under that awful cap.”
“Yeah. I know.” Todd yawned.
“Go change your pajamas,” she instructed him. “Those have worm juice all over them. I’ll run you a hot bath.”
“No. No bath,” Todd said sharply. “I’m too tired.”
“You don’t want a bath after rolling around on worms?” Mrs. Barstow demanded.
“Tomorrow. Okay?” he pleaded.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But change your pajamas. Good night.”
Todd watched her make her way downstairs. Then he returned to his room and changed into clean pajamas. He inspected the bed carefully, even though the sheets were new. Then he examined the pillow.
When he was certain there were no worms, he turned off the light and slipped into bed.
Lying on his back, he stared out the window at the pale half-moon—and thought about the worms.
Regina was sleeping over at Beth’s—but the bed was full of worms.
How?
How were they wriggling into his backpack? Into his notebooks? Into his breakfast? His lunch?
The room began to whirl. Todd felt dizzy. So sleepy. So very sleepy…
But he couldn’t stop puzzling about the worms. Such a mystery.
The night sky grew darker. The moon rose away from the window.
It’s so late, Todd thought, and I can’t get to sleep.
Maybe I do need a hot bath, he told himself, lowering his feet to the floor. Baths always relaxed him.
He crept silently out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom. He didn’t want to wake his parents. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he clicked on the light. Then he turned on the water and filled the tub, making it nice and hot.
When the water was nearly to the top, he pulled off his pajamas. Then he lowered himself into the steamy water. “Mmmmmm,” he hummed aloud as he settled into it. The hot water felt so good, so soothing.
This was a good idea, he told himself, resting his head against the back of the tub. He smiled and shut his eyes. Just what I needed.
A soft splash made Todd open his eyes and glance at the faucet. Had he forgotten to turn it off?
Another splash.
“Ohh.” Todd let out a soft moan as a fat purple worm slid out of the faucet and hit the water. “Oh, no!”
Splash.
Another worm dropped from the faucet. Then two more. They hit the surface of the water and plunged to the tub bottom just past Todd’s feet.
“Hey—!” He pulled his feet away and drew himself up to a sitting position. “What’s going on?!”
As Todd stared in horror, brown and purple worms tumbled from the faucet, three and four at a time, splashing into the tub. He raised his eyes to see more worms—sliding down the tile wall, plopping onto the water, onto his legs, onto his shoulders.
“No—!”
He struggled to climb out, trying to push himself to his feet with both hands.
But the tub bottom was covered with wriggling, swimming, slithering worms. And his hands kept slipping out from under him.
“Help—!”
Breathing hard, he managed to climb to his knees.
Worms clung to his back, his shoulders. He could feel them crawling over his hot, wet skin.
More worms tumbled down the wall. They seemed to be raining from the ceiling. More and more poured out of the faucet.
They had turned the entire tub into a seething, wriggling sea of brown and purple.
“Help—somebody!” Todd shouted.
But the worms were pulling him now. Pulling him down.
He could feel their wet grasp, hundreds of tiny prickles, as they held him tightly and tugged him down, down, into the churning water.
They plopped onto his head. Crawled over his face. Dangled from his quivering shoulders.
Covered him. Covered him, and continued to rain down, to pour down, and pull him down with them, into the wriggling, dark sea of warm, wet worms.
22
“Please—help me!”
Todd struggled and squirmed. He twisted his body, trying to swing his arms free.
But the worms held on, forcing him down, pulling him into the slimy, brown water. And more worms rained down, curling and uncurling as they slid down the wall, dropped from the ceiling, and poured from the faucet.
“Oh!”
He let out a startled cry as he tugged himself back to a sitting position. He thrashed his arms hard, sending a spray of water over the side of the tub.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
And the worms disappeared. All of them.
“Huh?” His mouth dropped open as he gazed into the tub. The ceiling light reflected in the clear water.
Hesitantly, he moved his toes. He splashed the water with both feet.
Clear. Perfectly clear and clean.
“Wow,” Todd murmured, shaking his head. “Wow.”
The wriggling, tumbling worms lingered in his mind. Despite the heat of the bathwater, a cold shiver ran down his body.
He climbed quickly out of the tub and wrapped a large, green bath towel around himself.
A dream. It had all been a disgusting dream.
He had fallen asleep in the bathtub and had dreamed up all of the worms.
He shivered again. He still felt shaky. He could still feel the itchy pinpricks all over his body.
Drying himself quickly, he let the towel slip to the floor and pulled on his pajamas. Then, as he hurried back to his room, eager to climb under the covers—he had an idea.
He had an idea about how to solve the worm mystery.
It was so simple, he realized. Such a simple plan.
But it would tell him once and for all how the worms were escaping from their tank and getting into his things.
“Yes!” he cried in an excited whisper. “Yes!”
Finally, he had a plan. He knew exactly what to do.
It will have to wait till Sunday night, he told himself, climbing into bed and pulling up the blankets. But I’ll be ready then.
Ready for anything.
Thinking about his plan, Todd fell asleep with a smile on his face.
The weekend passed slowly. Todd and Danny went to a movie on Saturday. It was a comedy about space aliens trying to run a car wash. The aliens kept getting confused and washing themselves instead of the cars. In the end, they blew up the whole planet.
Danny thought it was very funny. Todd thought it was dumb, but funny.
On Sunday, Regina came home from Beth’s. The whole family drove upstate to visit some cousins.
“It was a no-worms weekend,” Todd told Danny over the phone after dinner on Sunday evening.
“Way to go!” Danny re
plied enthusiastically.
“Not a single worm,” Todd told him, twisting the phone cord around his wrist.
“So are you going ahead with your plan?” Danny demanded.
“Yeah. Sure,” Todd said. “I have to. They just took the weekend off. For sure. Tomorrow is school. That means more worms in my backpack, in my books, in my lunch.”
“Yuck,” Danny murmured on the other end of the line.
“I’ve got to solve the mystery,” Todd told him. “I’ve got to.”
“Well, good luck,” Danny said. “I’ll meet you tomorrow morning. Outside of Miss Grant’s class, okay? Get there early so you can tell me how it went.”
“Okay,” Todd replied. “See you tomorrow.” As he hung up the phone, he felt excited and nervous and eager and frightened, all at the same time.
He tried playing a Nintendo football game to pass the time. But he was so excited and nervous, he kept using the wrong fingers on the controller, and the machine beat him easily.
Then he paced back and forth in his room, watching the clock slowly slide from number to number.
At ten-thirty, he and Regina said good night to their parents and returned to their rooms. Todd changed into his pajamas, turned out the lights, then sat on the edge of his bed, waiting.
Waiting for his parents to go to bed.
He heard their door close at eleven-fifteen. Then he waited another fifteen minutes, sitting tensely in the dark, listening to the soft creaks and groans of the house, listening to the heavy silence.
A little after eleven-thirty, Todd climbed out of his bed and tiptoed silently out of his room.
It’s time, he told himself, creeping down the dark hall to the stairs. Time to get to the bottom of this.
Time to solve the mystery of the worms.
23
The basement stairs creaked loudly under Todd’s bare feet. But there was nothing he could do about that.
He tried to move as silently as a mouse. He didn’t want to alert anyone in his family that he was awake. He grabbed the wall and caught his balance as he started to stumble on the basement steps.
Taking a deep breath, he stopped and listened. Had anyone heard him?
Silence.
The wooden steps were steep and rickety. But Todd couldn’t turn on the lights. He didn’t want anyone to see him.
Not even the worms.
A pale square of light spread across the basement floor, moonlight pouring through the narrow window up near the basement ceiling. Todd stepped around the light, keeping in the dark shadows.
His heart pounded as he made his way slowly, carefully across the room. “Ow!” He let out a whispered cry as he banged his waist into the corner of the Ping-Pong table. He quickly covered his mouth before he could cry out again.
The pain slowly faded. Rubbing his side, Todd picked up a tall stool and carried it over to one of the concrete beams that rose from floor to ceiling.
He set the stool down slowly, carefully. Gazing around the beam, he could see the worm tank on its table. The glass tank reflected the glow of the moonlight that invaded the dark basement.
Todd lifted himself silently onto the stool. Hidden behind the square concrete beam, he could watch the worms—but they couldn’t see him.
He gripped his hands around the beam and steadied himself on the tall stool. Glancing up, he saw the high window, filled with moonlight, glow like silver. The light cast eerie shadows over the entire basement.
Todd forced his breathing to slow to normal.
Got to take it easy. It may be a long wait, he told himself. I may be sitting here, watching the worm tank all night.
What did he expect to see?
He wasn’t sure. But he knew something would happen. Something would happen to explain the mystery of the worms to him.
Leaning against the beam, Todd stared at the glass aquarium tank. Were the worms plotting and planning inside? Were they deciding which ones of them would crawl upstairs and climb into Todd’s things?
Todd suddenly imagined a different story. Glancing back at the silvery basement window, he imagined it opening. He imagined a dark figure sliding into the basement. Patrick. He imagined Patrick lowering himself onto the basement floor, then crossing the room to the worm tank.
He imagined Patrick pulling up worms from the tank and sneaking upstairs with them. Todd could see Patrick grinning as he dropped the worms into Todd’s backpack, slipped one into the cornflakes box, hid one in Todd’s sneaker.
It’s possible, Todd told himself, turning his attention back to the worms. It isn’t a totally crazy idea. It isn’t as crazy an idea as a bunch of worms planning their revenge….
He yawned, covering his mouth so the worms wouldn’t hear.
How long will I have to sit here? he wondered. He felt a chill at the back of his neck. It was creepy down here in the dark.
What were those soft skittering sounds?
Mice?
He didn’t have long to think about them. A loud creak behind him made Todd gasp.
He gripped the concrete beam.
The stairs began to groan.
He heard the slow thud of footsteps. Footsteps growing louder, moving down the stairs.
Todd lowered his feet to the floor. He pressed himself tightly behind the beam, trying to hide.
The stairs creaked and groaned.
The thud of footsteps stopped at the bottom of the steps. Todd squinted hard into the darkness.
Who was it? Who was sneaking down to the basement?
Who was sneaking down to the worm tank?
Who?
24
Todd gasped as the ceiling lights flickered on. It took a second or two for his eyes to adjust to the bright fluorescent light.
Then he saw the figure standing at the light switch.
“Dad!” Todd cried.
Mr. Barstow jumped in surprise. He had a yellow bathrobe slung loosely around him. He carried one of Todd’s baseball bats in both hands, raised waist high.
“Dad—what are you doing down here?” Todd cried shrilly.
Todd’s father lowered the baseball bat. His mouth dropped open as he squinted across the room at Todd. “What are you doing down here?” he demanded.
“I’m… uh… watching the worms,” Todd confessed.
Mr. Barstow let the bat drop to the floor. It clanked noisily at his feet. He made his way quickly over to Todd, carefully stepping around the Ping-Pong table.
“I heard the basement steps creaking,” he told Todd. “I heard a crash down here, someone banging into the Ping-Pong table. I—I thought it was a burglar. So I grabbed the bat and came down to investigate.”
“It’s just me, Dad,” Todd said. “I had to find out how my worms are getting into my stuff. So I decided to watch them all night and see if—”
“I’ve had it with those worms!” Mr. Barstow exclaimed angrily.
“But, Dad—” Todd protested.
“What’s going on down there? Are you okay?” Mrs. Barstow called from the top of the stairs.
“Everything is okay, dear!” Todd’s father called. “It’s just more worm trouble.”
“Those disgusting worms again? Come up here and get back to bed,” Mrs. Barstow ordered. Todd could hear her padding back to her room.
“Those worms are out of here tomorrow,” Mr. Barstow said sternly, tightening the belt of the yellow robe.
“What?” Todd cried. “Dad, please—”
“Enough is enough, Todd. I don’t understand what’s been going on with your worms,” his father said, frowning, resting his hands on his waist. “But I can’t have you scaring everyone in the house, sneaking around in the middle of the night, sitting in the dark, staring at a tank of worms instead of getting your sleep.”
“But—but—” Todd sputtered.
Mr. Barstow shook his head. “My mind is made up. No discussion. The worms go. Tomorrow afternoon, take them outside and dump them all in the garden.”
“But,
Dad—”
Mr. Barstow raised a hand for silence. “I mean it. In the garden. Tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure you can find something better to collect than worms.”
He placed both hands on Todd’s shoulders and marched him toward the stairs.
Todd sighed unhappily, but didn’t say any more. He knew better than to argue with his father. When his dad made up his mind about something, he could be very stubborn.
Todd climbed the rest of the way to his room in silence, feeling angry and disappointed.
As he dropped onto his bed and jerked up the covers, he grumbled to himself about the most disappointing thing of all—he hadn’t solved the mystery.
All that planning. All that sneaking around.
He’d had such high hopes for getting to the bottom of it once and for all.
But, no.
Not only was he about to lose all of his worms, but now he would never know how the worms got into his things.
I don’t care about those stupid worms! he told himself. I don’t care that I have to throw them all away!
All I really care about is solving the mystery!
Angry and frustrated, Todd turned and started to punch his pillow. Hard. With both fists. Again. Again.
He didn’t realize that the whole mystery would be solved—accidentally—just a few hours later.
25
It rained the next morning. Todd didn’t even notice as he walked slowly to school. His thoughts were darker than the storm clouds over his head.
He dropped his jacket in his locker and pulled out his Trapper-Keeper. Stuffing it into his rain-drenched backpack, he spotted Danny.
As planned, Danny was waiting outside the classroom door. Waiting to hear how Todd had solved the worm mystery.
Well, I guess Danny will just have to be disappointed, too, Todd thought glumly. He straightened his Raiders cap and, hoisting his wet backpack onto his shoulders, made his way across the hall to his friend.
Danny’s red hair was soaked and matted down on his head. It looked more like a helmet than hair.